


The Right Decision

by PeppDream (Pep_Pizza)



Category: Among Us (Video Game), Dreamwastaken, GeorgeNotFound - Fandom, Minecraft Youtubers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Among Us (Video Game) Setting, Angst, Bad will swear, Character Death, Crossover, Friendship, Halloween Special, Impostors, M/M, Mira HQ (Among Us), Murder, Murder Mystery, Outer Space, Polus (Among Us), The Skeld (Among Us), blood warning ig, dreamnotfound, just a smidge, mcyt - Freeform, yes I know SHOCKING, yes there will be a lot of dying... you have been warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:09:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27184316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pep_Pizza/pseuds/PeppDream
Summary: In a terribly frightening game of murder, the line between surviving and dying all comes down to making the last, right decision...ORI plopped a bunch of Minecraft youtubers down into an Among Us universe, and chaos ensues.--Hope you enjoy my Halloween special!
Comments: 81
Kudos: 197





	1. Polus

**Author's Note:**

> To get a couple warnings/notes out of the way:  
> a) Characters WILL die. Also beware of any gory details I may write for the deaths of those characters.  
> b) Gonna be smidges of dreamnotfound here and there (bc I can't help myself, okay ;;)  
> c) I do not watch a large majority of the youtubers I'm writing xDD I know them mostly through other people's fanfictions, so I did my best to portray their personas, but forgive me if they do not match well ^^  
> d) This does not follow Among Us logic rule for rule. (Consider it as an interpretation~) That said, dying will also be heavily downplayed to put more emphasis on detective-work and to keep the story moving.
> 
> Okay, that's it. I had a lot of fun writing this, so I hope you'll enjoy it as well! Happy spooky month~ :)

Bad shivers as he steps off the shuttlecraft. It’s snowing, and the white powder covers the odd purple landscape before him like a thin blanket. One would normally consider the sight quite desolate and depressing, but Bad was in high spirits. He watches as the rest of the crew take turns stepping off the shuttle. 

Dream and Techno are the first to exit, no surprise there. “Hey guys,” Bad waves, “it’s _snowing!_ ”

“Hah, _yeah_ , it is!” Bad can’t really see Dream’s reaction because of his mask, but he at least sounds excited about it. Techno, on the other hand, seems mostly unimpressed with the scene before them. 

“Did you say _snow?_ ” George has quickly scrambled from the dropship upon hearing the words, his smile wide with anticipation. Bad giggles at how well George blends into the landscape because of his purple suit.

“ _Guys!_ We should build a _snowman!_ ”

“You’re just going to turn it into a snowball _fight_ , Tommy,” Wilbur replies. He joins the group as Tommy scrambles to a pile of snow nearby, already trying to form a spherical shape with his gloved hands.

“That’s not a _terrible_ idea,” Fundy offers, sticking his head out of the doorway of the dropship. Tubbo is standing behind him, staring curiously at the falling white particles in wide-eyed awe.

“ _Hell_ yeah!” Sapnap’s voice had suddenly appeared, and he barreled through the doorway, accidentally hitting Fundy’s head, but completely ignoring the fox’s grunt of complaint. He dives into the snow and rolls onto his back, moving his limbs to make a snow angel. A few of the group chuckle at the sight. Dream has flopped to the ground too, joining Sapnap’s shenanigans. Bad turns back to the dropship, realizing only nine of them are present.

“Skeppy?” Bad calls out, stepping back up to the dropship, “Where _are_ you? Come out already!”

“I _am_ coming,” comes Skeppy’s familiar voice, and his head pops out from the doorway. “I was just charting the stupid spaceship’s path for when we go ba— _whoaaaaaaa_.”

“ _Riiiiight?_ ” Bad grins, throwing his hands up into the air. “Isn’t it _awesome?_ ”

“This is _so cool_ ,” Skeppy agrees, already flying down the ramp to join the others in the snow. Bad giggles at his childish nature, quickly following him. Just as Wilbur had predicted, Tommy had long given up making a snowman, having adapted his spheres for throwing usages instead. Sapnap was his competitor, creating snowballs at record speed. The others are mostly trying to stay out of the fight, but when some are hit on accident, they end up joining the fray too.

“ _Dream!_ Stop _chasing me—_ ”

“ _Oh Geooooorge!_ ”

“Wha— _you’re not gonna get away with this, Tommy!_ ”

“H- _hey!_ ” Bad sputters as a stray snowball lands on his space helmet. “ _Stop it_ you _muffin!_ ”

Skeppy snickers ahead of him, giving himself away as the thrower. “Sorry Bad! I didn’t see you there—”

“Oh _sure_ you didn’t,” Bad retorts, already bending down to form a snowball of his own. “Let’s see if you can see _this—_ ”

“Guys!” Tubbo laughs, “We need to do our tasks!”

“That can wait, Tubbo,” Wilbur answers, a mischievous smile on his face as he swings his arm back in preparation for a throw, leaving Tubbo scrambling away.

“ _Dream_ , stopping _hitting me_ —”

“I’m _not_ hitting you George, you’re mixing up the colors, that’s _Tommy_ —”

“Wha—” Bad oomphs in surprise as he’s surprise-tackled into the snow. “S… _Sapnap?!_ How did you _sneak up_ on me, you muffin! I didn’t even see you!”

“I blend in with the snow~” Sapnap sing-songs, and Bad realizes he’s right. His white suit is the exact color of all the snow poffs around them. 

Bad suddenly notices that Techno isn’t joining in on the fun. He’s only standing there to the side, one of his eyebrows raised as he watches the chaos go on. Fundy appears to have noticed as well, but before Bad can stop him, the fox has thrown a snowball in the pig’s direction.

It lands right on Techno’s helmet, making a very audible _splat_. Everyone in the clearing suddenly pauses, an awkward silence falling upon them as Techno continues not to move, the snow sliding down the glass on his helmet.

Fundy’s ears flatten, and he takes a cautious step backwards. “U-uh. Sorry man, I—”

“ _Bruhhhhhh_ ,” Techo suddenly smirks, and all of a sudden, there’s a snowball in his hand (and Bad has _no idea_ how it got there). “You’re gonna get it now, _cracker_.”

And then the fight resumed in full flurry, snowballs everywhere flying through the air, happy laughs and wheezes filling the atmosphere. It goes on for several minutes, but eventually, everyone’s energy tapers off. Bad flops onto the ground with several others, panting heavily from the adrenaline of the battle. He’s not even cold — the activity had been so fun, Bad couldn’t even feel it now.

Techno is the last one left standing (his crown still miraculously standing on his head), and he huffs triumphantly. “Looks like I’m the winner—” He’s interrupted by a snowball slapping the side of his head, and everyone bursts into laughter, with Tommy laughing the loudest.

Finally, they pick themselves up and pat off the snow all over them. Several are already grouping up, heading off to do their tasks. Bad had started to look for Skeppy to buddy up with him, but he stops mid-wave when he sees his friend conversing with Tubbo, already ducking into the office building.

Bad half wants to follow, but he decides not to. No doubt Skeppy would be all “ _Baaad are you jealous?”_ on him, and he’s not about to set himself up for humiliation, no sir.

“Bad?” Bad turns when he’s tapped on the shoulder. It’s George, eyes hidden behind the shades of his white, large-rimmed glasses. “Can we go do our tasks together?”

“Oh?” Bad is about to ask where Dream is, but he sees a flash of lime and a fox tail disappear behind the doorway to electrical. “Ah. Yeah, sure!” Abandoned buddies would stick together, Bad supposes. It’s an amusing thought, and it cheers him up somewhat. “What’s first on your to-do list?”

“Um, I think I have one in storage.”

Bad racks his head to remember his tasks. “Okay, well, I don’t have one there. But I can help out with yours,” he offers.

Everyone else had already dispersed, leaving just George and Bad as the last occupants of the clearing, though Bad can still kind of see Tommy and Wilbur in the distance, heading towards laboratory. Storage is the building closest to them, so they get there relatively quickly. Bad is mostly relieved, since he gets to take a break from trudging through snow. He watches as George fills up a gas canister, then holds it for him as George quickly fills up a second. 

“Bad _look_ , I’m a gas-filling _master_.”

Bad giggles at how proud George looks. “Yeah, yeah, sure you are.”

The two head back out into the cold, trampling their way over to the dropship’s engines. George fills the left one, and Bad fills the right. When they finish, they meet back up in the middle, in front of the shuttlecraft.

“Teamwork makes the dream work,” George laughs when Bad offers a high-five.

“Let’s go to the office next,” Bad suggests. “We both have to swipe our cards, right?”

“Um yeah, I think so.”

The two begin circling around storage to reach the office through the side-room. On their way there, Bad spots a familiar blue beanie. It’s Wilbur fixing a weather node. George had waved hello, but Wilbur didn’t seem to have noticed the gesture, his gaze concentrated intently on his task.

Bad gently guides George around a large rock. “Let’s not bother him,” he decides. “We don’t want to be the reason that messes up his focus.”

They quietly scurry past the lava pool and make it to the vitals room. Bad’s gaze briefly glances over the display, and he marvels at the organization of the heartbeat monitors. “That is so cool,” Bad comments, his interest perking as his eyes land on Skeppy’s heartbeat monitor. It looks slightly more jagged than the others, but Bad isn’t really surprised.

“This card swipe is so _stupid_ ,” is George’s reply, the incessant sound of error beeps filling the room. “Why won’t it _work?_ ”

“Let me try,” Bad raises his eyebrow, reaching into his side-pouch for his wallet and neatly sliding his card against the card reader. The green light turns on, and Bad grins. “See? Easy!”

George sputters in protest, trying to swipe again. The rejection beep still happens though, and he groans. “How did you _do_ that so easily.”

“You’re moving your hand too fast,” Bad explains, taking George’s card from him. He swipes it for him, and the green light turns on. “There, I did it for you.”

George still looks nonplussed, but at least he has the manners to say “Thanks, Bad.”

“You’re very welcome.”

“Let’s do one of your tasks next,” George suggests. “Where’s your next one?”

“Um…” Bad’s eyes travel around the room as he thinks. “Let’s go to Specimen. I have to download the data there and take it to communication.”

“Alright. Let’s go then.”

George trails after Bad as he leads the way to the decontamination room. He presses a button and the door closes shut behind them, the sound of air rushing around them and billowing across their suits.

“How does this room even work?” George asks curiously. “Does it just _blow_ the germs away?”

“I don’t know,” Bad admits. They’re not the ones that made this place. “It probably has something to do with filtering a certain kind of air…?”

The other side opens and they’re free to go. “I just realized,” George suddenly adds as they step out, “I also have a task in specimen too. We’re still killing two birds with one stone.”

Bad laughs. “ _George_ , I don’t think the saying applies to this.”

George shrugs. “Why not? What’s wrong with killing—” he suddenly stops, his eyes snapping wide with shock. “Wh- _what…_ ”

“Hm? What’s—” Bad doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because when he looks where George is looking, his heart feels like it stops.

Lying there, in a bloody puddle on the ground, is someone in a cyan-colored space suit.

“ _Fu—_ ” Bad feels himself forming the words, and he only _barely_ stops himself, because right now he can’t find himself to care about _anything_ except the sight of Skeppy’s completely still, lifeless body on the floor. 

God, if this… if this was just another stupid _prank_ , Bad was going to… he was going to… 

Bad rushes forwards first, flipping Skeppy around to see where the blood is coming from, and he chills at the sight. He wished now, that it was only a prank. _Anything_ would be better than what was in front of him right now. Because there’s… there’s a gaping _hole_ , right through his helmet—

George screams behind him, hands covering his face. “WHAT. What the _FUCK_. WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL.”

Blood is rushing to Bad’s head. He shuts his eyes tightly, and then he opens them, blinking rapidly, as if doing so would unblur the scene in front of him. As if it’d help him see through the tears, would change the sight in front of him, would do _anything_.

“SKEPPY!” Bad shouts, his throat gurgling from how… how _heartbroken_ he is. Skeppy, his _best friend_ , he’s… he was… “SKEPPY, you… why? WHY?”

But Bad can’t… he can’t even _look_ at Skeppy’s corpse, because staring at that _thing…_ that mass of disfigured blood and flesh? That wasn’t Skeppy’s face. That wasn’t… it— it _couldn’t_ be, that Skeppy was… he was _dead_ —

“We need to go look at vitals,” Bad’s words come out in a rush. 

“What?”

“He… he can’t be _dead_ ,” Bad manages, quickly standing up. “We need to go check, to make sure he’s not just _pranking_ us.”

“ _Bad_ ,” George began, his eyes hesitantly glancing back at the body every millisecond, like he couldn’t look away from it. “You’re in…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, but Bad can hear the rest of it, unspoken in the air:

 _You’re in denial_.

“Hurry,” Bad replies, running back the way they came, his heart thundering wildly. “We have to _hurry_.”

. 。 • ( ( ( 📣 ) ) ) ﾟ 。 .

. . ﾟ . 。 。 .

“You KILLED HIM! How COULD you!”

Tubbo’s expression pales at Bad’s outburst, only further confirming Bad’s suspicions. (Though to his credit, everyone looks just as shocked at Bad’s shouting.) “Wh-what?”

“Don’t even try to _deny_ it,” Bad chokes out, the tears slipping out again despite his will to stay strong, “You… I saw Skeppy last with _you_ , you _must’ve_ KILLED him, it only could’ve been YOU—”

“WAIT.” Dream interrupts, his mouth dropping open. “You said he did WHAT to Skeppy?!”

“H-he… he _killed_ him, he—” Bad’s words break off, his voice failing him. God, he… he still can’t wrap his _head_ around it, it’s all just so _unreal_. It feels like a _nightmare_ , swallowing Bad whole, eating at him from the inside out.

“Skeppy’s dead,” George had continued on Bad’s behalf, his voice quiet. “I… I found him in Specimen, with Bad.”

“DEAD?” Wilbur repeats, eyes wide with shock.

Fundy blinks, looking bewildered. “What… do you _mean_ , he’s dead?”

“Just look at vitals,” George mumbles. At his words, both Dream and Sapnap duck out of the room to go investigate.

“You’re kidding,” Wilbur had frowned. “Why did you call an emergency meeting just to—”

“We’re not _lying_ ,” George had snapped. 

Sapnap pokes his head back into the office, expression grim. “He’s right. Skeppy’s heart monitor is…”

“He’s dead,” Dream finishes, appearing next to him. “He’s… he’s gone.”

A blanket of shocked silence falls over the group, disbelief flickering through everybody’s eyes as they look at each other with terrified expressions.

“So…” Technoblade had started quietly, jabbing a thumb in Tubbo’s direction, “Why’d you think it’s ‘em?”

“It’s—” Tubbo had quickly raised his hands in protest, a look of absolute terror on his face. “I… It _wasn’t_ me—”

“Then who _else_ could it _be?_ ” Bad had snapped. 

“Can we even be sure it was a _person’s_ doing?” George had hesitantly asked. “I can’t imagine that any of us could’ve…”

“Nothing else can _live_ on this planet, George.” Sapnap shakes his head. “We wear these spacesuits for a reason. We’re the only living things in this entire place.”

“Look,” Bad cuts in, wanting to avoid getting off-topic, “Tubbo. You were with him last, weren’t you?”

“...Y-yeah—”

Bad throws up his arms. “Well _there we go._ ”

“But I _left_ him several minutes ago!” Tubbo defends, looking scared out of his wits. “He said he had some things to take care of in Specimen, so we parted ways and I went to Weapons—”

“Can you _prove_ you were there?”

Tubbo hesitates, eyes growing wide. “Well… _no_ , but—”

“Then it’s YOU,” Bad decides, his blood boiling with anger. “ _Why_ did you kill him, Tubbo? Why would you…” He shouts out in frustration, the image of Skeppy’s disfigured face flashing in his mind. Bad’s fists clench as he tries to erase it, but to no avail. Dammit. _Dammit...!_

“Wait,” Dream had inserted. “We… we should listen to where everyone else was first.”

Bad notices right away that Tubbo shrinks in visible relief. “Y-yeah…”

“I’ll start,” Dream continues, pointing to him and Fundy. “We were both just leaving the left-most building. I did O2, and he emptied the garbage.” The fox nods at the explanation with affirmation.

“I was recording the temperature of the lava pool onto the logs,” Wilbur contributes. “Though, I am alone…”

“That makes sense,” George nods. “Bad and I saw you in that area when you were doing weather nodes.”

“Tommy and I were just leaving the lab,” Sapnap adds.

“Wait,” Dream had inserted, “doesn’t the other side of Specimen open up there?”

“It can’t be Sapnap,” Tommy extrapolates, quick to defend him. “When I was leaving, the lad was in the fenced-in area next to the rocket—”

“Yup,” Sapnap confirms.

“Okay…” Dream continues, “Then what about _you?_ Where were you coming from?”

“I—” Tommy puts his hands up, in an act of surrender or innocence, Bad wasn’t sure. “I was just in the bathroom! I swear I never _went_ into Speci—”

“But what were you _doing_ there?” Techno crosses his arms.

Tommy sputters. “Using the _bathroom_ , obviously!”

The pig only snorts, shrugging his shoulders. “Seems pretty sus…”

“Well, where were _you?_ You still haven’t told us where _you_ were!”

“I was opening the waterways in the Boiler Room,” he answers easily.

Fundy frowns however, his tail swishing thoughtfully. “But we didn’t _see_ you when we passed by…”

“Only because you crackers didn’t even _look in_ ,” Techno replies. “Believe me. I was there.”

“So…” George starts, looking uncertain. “We know where everybody was… so who was it?”

“It’s _no one_ ,” Sapnap answers bluntly, “If all of us claim to never have been in Specimen.”

Techno grunts, carefully eyeing the members of the room. “But someone is obviously lying.”

An awkward, untrustworthy silence falls over the room again. No one says a word as everyone’s eyes dart to everyone else, observing, thinking, sussing. Bad had originally thought it was Tubbo, had in fact been _certain_ it was him, but having heard everyone’s story, he realizes he doesn’t know. Was Tubbo really capable of an act of _murder?_ What if Tommy lied, and came from upper decontamination? What if Techno, who was unaccounted for, had been _hiding_ in MedBay, only having lied about his location?

“What do we do?” Tubbo had asked the room, his voice shaky.

“I… I don’t know,” Wilbur admits. But he’s not alone. Bad has the feeling that none of them do.

. 。 • ﾟ 。 .

. . ﾟ . 。 。 .

“Dream. Can we…?”

“Yeah,” Dream nods, much to George’s relief. “Let’s stick together.”

The whole room was tense when the meeting ended. No proper decision was made — no one knew enough, and they were still too shocked to _do_ anything anyway. George had noticed how everyone was pairing up, and feeling quite scared himself, he had automatically reached out to Dream, someone he instinctively trusted. (It also helped that he had been nowhere near the body.)

“Do you really think one of us could’ve…?”

“I don’t want to believe it,” Dream answers, biting his lip. “But Sapnap is right. There _isn’t_ anything else living on this planet. It could’ve only been one of us.”

“Right…” George swallows. _God_ , he doesn’t like the sound of that at _all_. George enters the side room connected to the office, and jumps a little in surprise to see that someone’s still there. “Bad? What’re you doing here?”

“I’m parking myself on vitals,” Bad answers, sounding determined despite the loss he must’ve felt from Skeppy’s death. George feels awful just thinking about the image of the bloodied, shattered glass from Skeppy’s helmet, but he feels more terrible just thinking how much worse Bad has it.

“Alright,” George sighs. “Did you see if everyone did card swipe?”

“Yes…” Bad frowns, “I think so.”

“Okay,” George steps up to the panel screen on the wall, “I think I can do download then, if everyone’s swiped their cards—”

“Wait,” Dream holds up a hand, “I still need to do mine.”

“Oh, right,” George realizes, then shrugs. “It’s fine, I’ll just start the process. It takes a while for the information to transfer anyway.”

“I made sure everyone saw me standing here,” Bad mumbles under his breath. “Do you think the killer would still act, _knowing_ I’m watching every person’s vitals?”

“Probably not,” George confesses. If he were a killer, he’d hate to be monitored. “But what about your tasks…?”

“I can always do them later,” Bad had answered. “And I… there’s no _way_ I’m going back into the Specimen Room.”

George gets it, so he nods. He turns to see how Dream is doing with the card swipe, but he appears to be done already. “Wow, so fast?”

“Yup.”

“How come you and Bad are so _good_ at that,” George complains, and Dream gives a wry chuckle.

“How many tries did it take you?”

“I never _did_ it,” George sighs. “Bad did it for me.”

Dream snorts at that, much to George’s annoyance, but at least he feels a little lighter compared to a few minutes prior. Just recalling the ambience of that emergency meeting made him shiver. All the finger-pointing, the accusations made on their _friends_ … George hopes they never have to do something like that again.

“The download’s finished,” George speaks up after a minute.

“Want to go to MedBay first?” Dream suggests. “It’s closer than Communications, and we can just circle our way back around.”

George agrees, and the two say their goodbyes to Bad before heading off. George is surprised — it’s still snowing outside. He and Dream hurry to their destination, not because of the cold or anything. Just… it’s so _scary_ being out in the open. George isn’t sure how to explain it, how he feels _vulnerable_ when anyone can see him. _Especially_ a killer.

It’s a lot safer-feeling indoors. Upon entering the lab, George sees Wilbur and Fundy working on their tasks. “Oh, hey guys.”

Wilbur gives a curt nod, his attention fixated on several test tubes in front of him. Fundy seems happy to see them though, looking up from the telescope to greet them. George leaves Dream and Fundy to chat (since they seem to be having such a _great time_ together) to finish his MedBay scan. When he steps onto the raised scanner, he lifts his arms and lets the green holographic grid take measurements of his body.

Technology these days is pretty cool, George has to admit. MIRA was definitely one of the most advanced space companies out of every corporation he knew. 

The other pair finish earlier, having been in the lab first, so they leave first as well. (Neither of them heads towards Specimen, and George doesn’t blame them.) When George finishes up the rest of his tasks, sweeping up the broken glass on the floor, Dream says he’s done as well, so they promptly leave shortly afterward, headed down to Communications.

“Dream? Why aren’t you coming in?”

Dream had stopped near the doorway, much to George’s confusion. “I’m guarding you, George. I can see who passes by if I stand here instead of inside.”

“Okay…” George had nodded, glad Dream was looking out for both of them. He hurries to the computers, completing the second part of his upload task. The room falls silent. It almost sounds like George is the only one in the room, and it’s starting to make him anxious. About halfway through the upload, he turns to make sure Dream is still there, and he certainly is, leaned up against the doorway as casual as ever. He’s staring intently at George.

Dream smiles fondly when he notices George’s glance. “What?”

George had huffed, turning back to the computer monitors. “Nothing.”

Dream chuckles, and George’s heart does a little flip-flop. “Do you miss my presence or something—?”

Suddenly an alarm blares. George jerks upright, recognizing the call for an emergency meeting, and dread trickles down his back. He and Dream immediately look at each other, instantly understanding what it meant.

If Bad was calling a meeting, that could only mean one thing.

. 。 • ( ( ( 📣 ) ) ) ﾟ 。 .

. . ﾟ . 。 。 .

“Someone died,” Bad announces immediately. “And I don’t know what kind of _muffin_ would kill when they _know_ I’m sitting on vitals _watching_ the exact moment they’ll kill, so either they’re _crazy_ or they’re just _super_ —”

“ _Bad_ ,” Sapnap had interrupted. “Do you know where the body is?”

Bad frowns with confusion. “Um, no? I just said I was on vitals.”

“Then you shouldn’t have called the meeting,” Sapnap narrows his eyes. “All of us immediately ran here because of you, and now we don’t have any information on who the killer could be, because we don’t know the location of the body.”

“Oh… s-sorry,” Bad blinks, looking surprised. “I guess I didn’t really think that through… But I can at least tell you, it literally happened _just now_.”

“Alright,” Tubbo nervously starts, “Then, who was last with Wilbur?”

“... _wait_ ,” Bad pauses, “How do you know _Wilbur died_.”

Everyone’s heads suddenly turn to Tubbo, and he turns pink. “I-I…” he stutters.

“Obviously because he’s the only one not present,” Techno rescues, snorting in disbelief. “It’s common sense.”

“...r-right,” Bad sighs, looking irritated with himself. “Sorry, I… I’m blanking out.”

“It’s okay,” George reassures. He knows better than anyone just how freaked out Bad must be, that a _second_ person had been killed. Wilbur — tall, smiling, never seen without his blue beanie — was gone. George can hardly believe it himself. Heck, he doesn’t think he _does_ believe it, even now. It’s all too unreal to be possible.

“The last person with Wilbur was Fundy,” Sapnap answers, and George cringes as he realizes they’re going to have to point fingers at their friends, _again_. “Me, Tubbo, and Tommy were traveling as a trio, and we passed the two in the hallway of the left building.”

“W-well, _yes_ …” Fundy has finally spoken up after being singled out, “but I had _nothing_ to do with his death. I mean, come _on!_ I was nowhere even _near_ Skeppy’s...”

“Well, okay,” Dream’s mask raises an eyebrow. “Explain what happened then.”

“We did all our tasks in the left building together,” Fundy continues, looking nervous as he explains, “And we were both exiting through the bottom end, y-you know, the section connected to the Boiler Room? And Wilbur had stopped to do another one of his weather nodes, so I-uh just walked on ahead…”

“I did see ‘em when I walked out of electrical…” Tommy affirms.

“Why did you _leave_ him?” Dream accuses, “That’s _so_ weird.”

“That is actually so _strange_ ,” Sapnap agrees. “Why would you _split up_ when you know there’s an impostor among us?”

“I-I…” Fundy’s ears twitch in fear. “I just… I don’t _know_ , I thought it’d be fine if I left for a _second_ …”

“Hey Dream,” Tommy prompts, “were you and George together?”

“Yeah,” George confirms before Dream can answer. “We were both at Communications.”

“Isn’t… that pretty close to the scene…?” Tubbo asks.

“... _oh_ ,” George realizes he’s right. “Dream, you were standing guard right? Did you see anything happen outside?”

“I saw Fundy pass by,” Dream answers slowly, “But… I never saw Wilbur.”

Fundy shrinks back. “You think I’m _lying_.”

“Well, yeah! I only saw _you_. But,” Dream shows the palms of his hands in a defense position, “I _may_ have seen wrong, I don’t know. I’m not 100% positive.”

“What? _Dream_ ,” George elbows Dream in his side. “The whole _point_ of you standing there was to _keep watch_ …”

“I—” Dream stutters, looking embarrassed. “I got _distracted_ , okay?”

Now George is confused. “Distracted? By _what_ —”

But he doesn’t get an answer, since Tommy is suddenly shouting, “Ey Techno! Where’ve _you_ been at?”

George realizes it’s a fair question. Technoblade had rarely spoken this meeting. The pig only examines his fingernails, looking bored with the proceedings.

“I was in Specimen, turning on the reactor.”

Everyone does a double-take at the confession. George half wonders if Techno is a really bad liar, or if he’s _actually_ just that stone-hearted to not give a shit about a literal _corpse_ smeared in blood.

“Um,” Bad pauses uncertainly. “There’s a _body_ in there.”

“So?” Techno grunts. “None of you are headin’ in there, yeah? _Somebody’s_ gotta do the tasks there and,” he spreads out his arms, as if offering himself, “I’m the one doing ‘em.”

Everyone shares uneasy glances at the explanation, but no one can say he’s wrong. George, for one, was _very_ against seeing Skeppy’s body again just to sort some stupid artifacts. He hopes Techno isn’t lying, because he sure as hell doesn’t want to go anywhere _near_ that place again.

“Can anyone vouch for you though?” Dream asks.

Techno shrugs. “Nope.”

“Sapnap and I saw ‘em head to Admin after the meeting,” Tommy offers. “But, er, we unfortunately can’t really confirm whether he actually entered Speci or not.”

Dream sighs. “I expected as much.”

“Should we go look for him?” Fundy gulps, and just imagining the idea makes George pale. “I-If we know where Wilbur is, maybe it’ll help…?”

“No,” Bad cuts in, much to George’s relief. “No. No, no, no.”

Dream looks surprised. “Bad?”

“I don’t want to see another body of one of our friends,” Bad continues, voice firm. “And I thought standing at vitals would deter the killer, but that’s clearly not the case. We _can’t_ stay here and let more of us be killed.”

“Then what do we _do?_ ” George replies, feeling frustrated at their situation, “I haven’t even finished all my tasks—”

“It doesn’t _matter_ ,” Bad points out, “If all of us are going to _die_.”

“Well, then what are ya proposing we do?” Tommy asks.

“Let’s get out of here,” Bad answers easily. “George and I already refueled the engines on the dropship. We’re free to leave at any time and, if we retreat now, we can head back to HQ before it’s too late.”

Tubbo still looks confused. “But why HQ…?”

“The layout,” Bad answers easily. “Think about it — our headquarters _only_ splits up into three hallways, and we have _sensors_ that can detect when people move from area to area.”

“So… a killer would be less likely to act, unless they want to incriminate themselves,” Dream summarizes in understanding.

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” Fundy nods in agreement, “I get it. That’s a good idea.”

“So, everyone up for leaving?” Sapnap prompts. Tubbo and Tommy nod their heads, their expressions grim but determined. George follows suit, his nerves bouncing under his skin in nervous tingles.

Techno crosses his arms with an air of finality. “Then let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to place your bets! Who we votin'?  
> (I won't give any clues, but if there are questions interpretation-wise, I will gladly explain ^^ )


	2. Mira HQ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get worse.

Everyone shuffles out of office together as a group, a depressed aura lingering over them. Suffering through Wilbur’s absence wasn’t going to be an easy thing to do. Techno’s aware that he appears calm when compared to the others, but secretly, he’s always stressed. And right now, he’s more stressed than ever before.

Techno lingers near the back, examining people’s actions. Sapnap was stuck to Bad’s side, a reassuring arm draped over his shoulder as he comforted him and, Techno supposes, to support his decision. Towards the front, Tommy and Tubbo were speaking in hushed whispers to each other, no doubt still talking about the most recent incident. And to the very side, Dream and George walk in a pair, though the two are mostly quiet towards one another. Only Fundy appears slightly more talkative, fidgeting as he tries to spark conversation with Dream.

Techno recalls the investigation he had performed in the Specimen Room. George hadn’t gone into all that much detail about the condition of the corpse, so Techno had to go look for himself, and frankly he’s not too surprised by how vague their description had been. The floor was a bloody _mess_. Just looking at where Skeppy’s face used to be had made Techno’s gut churn uncomfortably.

Nonetheless, he had checked it out, and now he knew some things. That firstly, there was no _way_ the attack could’ve been carried out by a human. The shape of the wound didn’t match any sort of weapon Techno could think of, and by process of elimination, Techno figured only some sort of alien could be responsible for the attack.

Imagining one of their own brethren as an alien certainly wasn’t the best thought Techno had ever had.

Secondly, Techno had checked the condition of the body, removing Skeppy’s arm from the suit to feel his skin and, interestingly enough, it was still warm. Likewise, the blood on the ground was still very wet, where only the footprints (most likely made by Bad or George) were dry. This meant the kill had been _extremely_ recent. That information would clear Dream and Fundy, since Techno was 100% sure he had heard Dream’s iconic wheezy laughter from inside the Boiler Room.

As for the second body… as everyone steps onto the dropship, Techno takes one last look out at the landscape, searching for suspicious entities. There is no sign of Wilbur’s body anywhere. As Bad presses the button to shut the exit to the shuttlecraft, Techno muses over the location of the body. Tubbo, Tommy, and Sapnap had allegedly passed Fundy and Wilbur in the hallway. At that point, Wilbur had still been alive. Then, Tommy had left electrical and seen Fundy outside the doorway. At that point, Wilbur was dead.

The body was, therefore, somewhere around the bottom corner of the left building. But _where_ exactly… Techno didn’t know. That information was vitally important, being the sole definer of the validity of Fundy’s claims. But no one knew where it was, and no one had passed it as they came to the meeting. Techno could only speculate.

The floor of the shuttlecraft rumbles underneath them as they take off. Techno takes a seat, suspiciously eyeing each member as he evaluates their movements, filtering out their idle chatter. No one had exactly done anything _strange_ just yet (like going to a finished task area twice). But Techno figures that someone’s just a really good actor.

Or, and he didn’t like the idea of it in the _least_ , but _maybe_ it wasn’t just some _one_. Maybe it was _multiple people_.

Techno hadn’t brought it up in the meeting, not wanting to panic the group, but the more he thinks about it, the more likely it seems. Those sussed for the first kill were nearly all cleared for the second, and vice versa. At that point, one could only assume there was another…

The second body was, really, a dead give-away. The only people present in the area had been Fundy, Dream, and George. Techno wonders if they should’ve just taken a shot in the dark, but he hadn’t suggested it, knowing the mentality of their group would never agree to it. Taking a chance and hoping to hit right, while potentially sacrificing an innocent? That would never fly.

So Techno just keeps this information to himself, and continues to watch.

Soon, the shudder of the dropship comes to a halt. They must’ve finally landed at HQ. “We’re here,” Bad had announced, sounding relieved. The exit had then creaked open, the door lowering to form a ramp on the launchpad. Everyone quickly filters out of the dropship, Techno’s heels clicking on the white tile.

“Are we safe?” Tubbo had asked warily.

“Not yet,” Bad replies with a sigh. “I’m going to try to get into contact with Mira, and tell them about what happened. I’ll also be on watch for suspicious activity on the logs.”

“Do you need any help?” Dream had offered.

“Thank you Dream,” Bad had given a tired smile, “but no, you can’t just _abandon_ your duties. We need to get everything ready in case we need to leave at a _second’s_ notice.”

“I’ll refill the gas for the engines,” Fundy says, quickly scurrying to the panel on the side of the room. Techno raises an eyebrow, wondering if his eagerness is due to a need to want to prove himself innocent.

“You heard Bad,” Dream announces. “Everyone, _do_ your tasks so we can get out of here quickly, okay?” Heads bob in understanding, and then the group disperses, all heading down the hall. Techno casts one last look at Fundy struggling with the gas canister before following everyone else.

He keeps a mental note as he watches everyone split: Sapnap was headed towards the locker rooms. Dream and George had stopped at the end of the turn to fix wires. Bad was headed into Communications, as he said he would. Techno then followed Tubbo and Tommy to the center of the Y-intersection, stopping when he sees them head up the North passage together.

Satisfied with this information, and doubting the two would try anything funny with Bad watching the logs, Techno strides to the cafeteria. There aren’t any particular tasks here in need of immediate attention, but thinking so much was really taxing Techno’s brainpower, so he heads to the vending machine and it dispenses a blue NRg drink for him. Nice.

Techno walks back to the Y-intersection, pausing as he sees Tommy heading back down the hall towards him. “Hey!” The obnoxious boy waves, “Fancy seeing you here again. Have you just been standing here this whole time?”

Techno rolls his eyes, dangling his drink with his fingers by the cap. “Cafeteria.”

“Ah, took a trip to the vending machine, did ya?” Tommy nods, in a very exaggerated manner, Techno thinks. “It’s just to the left side of the entrance, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then I think I’ll grab myself a little something too,” Tommy decides. “Would you like to come with me? We could—”

“No,” Techno shoots down.

Tommy blinks, looking only vaguely surprised at the frankness, but he waves it off. “Well, alright, I suppose I’ll just go on my own. Not a problem. Nice catching up with you, buddy!”

“Yeah…” Technoblade narrows his eyes, looking back down the North passage. Something is bugging him, and a strange feeling is stirring in his gut. Hadn’t Tommy and Tubbo gone up there together? Then… if Tommy was here, where was _Tubbo?_ “Hey.”

Tommy, already halfway down the Southeast hall, stops for a second. “What?”

“Where’d you leave Tubbo?”

Tommy shrugs. “I do believe he was headed up to the greenhouse. To clean the O2 filter, possibly?”

Techno doesn’t wait a second longer, already quickly striding down the hallway. He needs to find Tubbo. The giant, cylindrical test tube for the sample alien plant-species can be seen in the far end of the hall, but the rest of the greenhouse is obscured by the sides of the walls. Techno hurries, the feeling that something is terribly _wrong_ only growing stronger with every step.

Techno whirls to a stop upon entering the greenhouse, and he freezes. On the ground, from behind a rectangular planter, a… a limb of a green spacesuit is poking out.

. 。 • ( ( ( 📣 ) ) ) ﾟ 。 .

. . ﾟ . 。 。 .

“You… you _killed_ ‘em,” Tommy breathes, looking shocked. “You son of a BITCH!”

“Bad,” Dream starts, “Did you see what happened?”

But Bad is shaking, his mouth opening and closing with doubt. “I… I can’t believe the killer still _acted_ , they literally _know_ I’m watching _every movement_ —”

“ _Bad._ ”

Bad gulps, collecting himself. “Tommy and Tubbo passed the North sensor together in the beginning,” he manages. “Tommy just passed it a few seconds ago, and Techno called the meeting when he entered the North passage…”

“That’s correct,” Techno affirms, staring suspiciously at Tommy, trying to in vain to puzzle the mystery out. So it was _true_ that no one else had entered the North hallway, but… could it _really_ be Tommy who killed him? He’d seemed so lax and carefree, Techno honestly doubted it, but something about the way Tommy had invited him to join him to the cafeteria, as if he had been trying to draw Techno away… it _bothered_ him.

“Tubbo’s dead,” Fundy suddenly inserts, as if he’s just realized what’s happening. His eyes are wide with surprise.

“A-and,” Tommy looks nervous, his eyes wavering, “ _Technoblade_ did it.”

“I…” Bad hesitates. “Yeah, well, it’s… it _has_ to be either you or Techno.”

“It’s not me,” Tommy shakes his head rapidly, his words spilling out like a waterfall, “I went up there to chart the course for headin’ home, in case we needed to leave, like Bad said. An’ when I left, I met _Techno_ in the hallway and he asked where Tubbo was, and I _told_ him he’d probably be in the greenhouse, right? But then he gets this _evil look_ in his eyes and he starts _charging_ straight towards the place— It-it’s _him._ It’s _gotta_ be him.”

Everyone slowly turns their heads in Technoblade’s direction. “Techno…?” George starts. “You…”

“What he says is true,” Techno replies curtly. “I had indeed ran to the greenhouse.”

“But _why_.”

“A bad feeling,” Techno answers grimly. “And I was right.”

Everyone falls silent, casting wary glances to one another, but Tommy only plows on, oblivious to the atmosphere. “It’s a _self-report_ guys,” Tommy continues, “He was… he was the _only_ person up there, and it’s not _me_ so—”

“Can you prove that?” Dream cuts in, and Tommy falls silent at that, looking shocked.

“W-well, _no_ , b-but I _swear!_ I didn’t _do_ _anything_ …”

“I agree with Tommy,” Sapnap suddenly inserts, much to Techno’s surprise. “Think about it, Technoblade is _never_ accounted for. For _any_ of the kills.”

“Y-yeah, _exactly_ ,” Tommy nods. “It’s _super_ suspicious, innit?”

Techno didn’t think the killer was Tommy. In fact, he _still_ didn’t think it was Tommy, so he hadn’t wanted to point fingers. But it was quickly becoming apparent that his silence had changed the direction of the conversation, and he suddenly realizes things are taking a turn… for the _worse_. 

“I’ve never lied,” he attempts to explain himself, but he’s quickly interrupted.

“I wasn’t even anywhere _near_ Wilbur’s body,” Tommy fires on, “My alibi is completely _clean_ there, so think about it. There’s no _way_ it can be me!”

“I guess it would definitely explain a lot, if it were Techno…” Bad muses, looking uncertain. He’s started to shrink away from Techno’s location. In fact, Techno realizes, _everyone_ appears to have taken a step away from him.

“I’ve never lied,” Techno repeats, the gravity of the situation finally weighing on him. If he doesn’t explain himself, or pin the blame on someone, _he’s_ going to be suspected of foul play. “I am always exactly where I claim to be.”

“But you have _no proof!_ ” Sapnap yells, throwing up his hands. “How can we _believe_ you?”

“Do you really _think_ ,” Techno growls, “That I’d be enough of an _idiot_ to kill someone, _knowing_ someone was watching my movements on the logs?”

The room seems to hesitate for a moment, and Techno begins to hope he must’ve finally reached them, but Tommy quickly cuts in, “Y-you’re trying to do some weird, alien reverse-psychology mumbo jumbo on us, aren’t ya?”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Dream groans, gently smacking the boy in the back of the head. “Shut _up_ Tommy, stop _talking over_ people.”

“And I would like to mention something,” Techno adds, “Because while I don’t think you’re the killer Tommy, your alibi isn’t good enough.”

Tommy sputters. “... _Wh-what? WHY._ ”

“It wouldn’t mean anything, if there were _two_ impostors,” Techno finishes, watching as realization settles over everyone’s faces.

“But you’re still the only one who was absent for both kills!” Fundy retorts, his bushy tail flicking irritably. “I agree with Tommy as well.”

“But, Techno is so _calm_ …” George mumbles uncertainly, “He doesn’t sound guilty…”

“He’s just a _very_ good actor,” Tommy snaps, looking anxious over the fact that his word was being doubted. “Look, on the count of three everyone, just point to the person who you want to eject.”

“E- _eject?!_ ” Bad repeats, appearing frozen.

“Raise your hand if you want to skip,” Dream offers.

“ _One,_ ” Tommy starts, and everyone casts terrified glances at each other as he continues his countdown, “ _Two… Three._ ”

Limbs move all around the room, and hands are pointed. Techno notices that some (namely, George and Bad) had voted to skip, including Technoblade himself. But Tommy, Fundy, Dream, and Sapnap are all pointing in Techno’s direction. The vote was final. Techno begins to sweat.

“You fucked up, Techno,” Tommy sighs in relief. “Let’s throw ‘em out the airlock, boys.”

“You…” Techno lets out a shaky breath, lifting his chin as his last act of defiance. “You crackers are going to _regret_ this.”

. 。 ඞ 。 . • . Technoblade was ejected. . . 。 . 

。 ﾟ . . , . . .

Two deaths ago, it hadn’t settled in yet. George had been in denial, had ignored the panging in his chest, had turned a blind eye away from corpses falling let and right around him. He had convinced himself things would turn out okay. He had let Bad reassure him with his insistence on monitoring them, that he would keep them safe.

But now that Tubbo was dead, now that Techno had been ejected, now that _four_ of them were gone… George was beginning to feel it. The first real, stinging effects… of _fear_.

George had a feeling it wasn’t Techno, but the majority rule voted him out, and they had sent the pig into space with nothing but his suit on. It was a cruel and awful thing to do, but George couldn’t say anything, because he can’t be _positive_ that Techno was innocent. _No one_ could. And perhaps that was why he was ejected.

Still, George feels terrible about the whole thing. And Techno’s last words, about the possibility of there being two impostors… that scared the living _shit_ out of George. It left him trembling with anxiety, _terrified_ with possibilities that nagged at the back of his brain.

“ _Hey_ , George. Are you okay?”

“I-I’m…” George swallows. “I don’t know. I-I’m not sure…”

Dream’s mouth forms a thin line. “I know it was hard to watch us eject one of our friends,” he whispers, “But George, it _had_ to be him. We _couldn’t_ risk leaving him on board, and let another one of our friends die because of that decision, right?”

George lets out a shaky breath. “Y-yeah… I guess you’re right.”

“Come on,” Dream gently tugs George along. “You don’t need to be scared. Everyone’s already left to finish the rest of their tasks, and once Bad gets in contact with Mira about the situation, we’ll be safe to go home.” When George doesn’t respond, Dream continues, “Let’s go finish the rest of your wire tasks. You need my help with those, right?”

“...yes,” George breathes, secretly grateful Dream was here to help him pull through. “Let’s… let’s do that.”

The two head up the North passage, stopping at the doorway to the greenhouse (and _very pointedly_ not entering it). George flips open the wiring compartment, cringing at the tangled mess inside the walls.

He points to one. “This one’s red, right?”

“Yeah,” Dream nods, “Those two over there are purple and blue though, so don’t mix them up.”

George scrambles to finish the task, but his hands are shaking too much, and he can’t connect the ends. “I-I _can’t_ do it Dream, I’m…” he swallows, letting go of the wires. “I’m… scared."

“George…”

“What if Techno was right?” George quietly asks. “What if there’s a second killer?”

Dream appears to be thinking. A second of hesitance later, Dream has, to George’s surprise, linked their hands. “George,” Dream mumbles, “everything’s going to be fine.”

“But what if we were _wrong_ Dream,” George shuts his eyes, squeezing Dream’s hand tightly. “What if Techno wasn’t one of them?”

“Then I’ll protect you,” Dream answers, so firmly, that George thinks he must’ve misheard. “I’ll keep you safe, George. I promise.”

“I… what could _you_ possibly do against a _murderer?_ ” George lets go of Dream’s hand, but he has to admit Dream’s words had made him feel a lot warmer.

“I’ll buy time for you to escape?” Dream jokes.

“What.” George rolls his eyes and shoves him a bit, but Dream only gives a gentle wheeze in response. “Are you trying to become a _martyr_ , Dream?”

“Only the best.”

“You’re impossible,” George huffs, resuming his wire task with relative ease. His hands aren’t shaking anymore.

When he’s done, they both start to head back down the hall, only to be stopped when they see Tommy exiting the office. “Oh, hey guyyys!”

“Hey,” George greets, frowning a bit in confusion. “What are you doing in the office?”

Tommy sighs, shaking his head. “It’s the communications,” he explains. “They’ve been sabotaged, and I’m trying to help Bad fix ‘em.”

“ _Sabotaged?_ ” George blinks. “By _who?_ ”

“Dunno,” Tommy shrugs. “But I gotta say, I haven’t been having any luck with it so far. You two wanna take a go at it?”

“Sure—” Dream had started to say, but at that very moment, they were suddenly launched into darkness. George jumps in surprise at how pitch black it is.

“D- _Dream?_ ” George had yelped, feeling for Dream’s presence next to him to calm his rapidly beating heart.

“Wh-what’s _goin’ on here?!_ ”

“The lights are off,” Dream answers, so calmly, that George is admittedly a little jealous of his self-control. “Don’t panic. I’m pretty sure we can fix them inside the office…” Dream starts to move away, and George lets himself be tugged along, using his other hand to feel against the wall. 

“You two have fun with _that_ ,” George can hear Tommy’s voice right outside the doorway, “I’m just going to stay right here.”

George can’t fucking see _anything_ , and his skin is _crawling_ with apprehension _._ But as he’s slowly guided into the room, his eyes start to adjust to the darkness, and he begins to see more. There’s a sudden, _strange_ creaking sound to their left. Confused, George looks up—

—Only to see the glint of a knife pointed right above Dream’s head.

“DREA—!” But before George can finish his cry of warning, Dream has tackled George to the side, leaving them both scrambling on the ground.

“Wha-what’s _happening??_ ” Tommy screeches from the hall.

“ _GEORGE,_ ” Dream was shouting, an edge of panic in his voice, “CALL THE EMERGENCY BUTTON.”

George’s heart is bouncing out of his chest. “But—” George struggles to stand, tries to look behind him, to see a glance of who the killer is, and it’s still _too dark_ , but he thinks he sees a flash of white cloth—

“I’ll hold him off George, you _have_ to CALL THE BUTTON.”

“ _Dream—_ ”

“GEORGE, _GO!_ ”

So George picked himself up, and ran.

. 。 • ( ( ( 📣 ) ) ) ﾟ 。 .

. . ﾟ . 。 。 .

“ _Dream!_ ” George tackles his friend the moment he sees him, “Dream, you’re _okay!_ ”

The largest wave of relief swoops over him. God, George wouldn’t have been able to forgive himself if Dream had been hurt. He regretted it the instant he ran, but his feet had moved of their own accord, too terrified to stop. He’s just glad it wasn’t the wrong decision. He’s just glad Dream’s okay.

“Y-yeah,” Dream chuckles, in apparent disbelief. “The killer didn’t chase after us — he went back into the vent, and I fixed the lights.”

“He came from the _vent?_ ” George repeats incredulously. Was that the strange sound he had heard when they entered the office?

“Did you say a _vent?_ ” Fundy mirrors in disbelief. “You can _do_ that?”

“I can’t believe we’re fuckin’ _alive_ ,” Tommy adds on, wide-eyed, “I thought for sure we were _dead_ —”

“LANGUAGE,” Bad puts up his hands (to which Tommy replies with an indignant “POG!”). “But okay wait, seriously, can you _please_ fill us in? _What_ is _going on._ ”

“A killer came out of the vent in office,” George rushes to explain, “And the lights were off, so I didn’t get a good look at who it was, but—”

“But it’s definitely Sapnap,” Dream finished for him.

The table is immediately slammed. “WHAAT. _Dream._ What the _fuck_ are you saying.”

“I said, it’s definitely you,” Dream repeats.

“Y-you—” Sapnap sputters, looking mortified, “just, _what_. WHY?! That’s so _stupid!_ Why _me?_ Do you even have any _fucking proof?!_ ”

“Yeah, why?” Tommy pops in. “I didn’t get a good look at the venter either, how do you know it’s ‘em?”

“I saw a flash of white in the darkness,” Dream continues, sounding certain. “And Sapnap’s the only who’s wearing white.”

“I…” George blinks in realization. “I think… I saw that too!”

“I-I—” Sapnap’s expression is bewildered beyond explanation. “It’s _not me!_ ”

“Then tell us where ya were!” Tommy demands.

“I was in the _lab_ ,” Sapnap huffs, jutting his hands out in anger. “If Bad just looked at the logs, he could confirm—”

“Actually,” Bad nervously cuts in, “Communications were sabotaged. The sensors weren’t working.”

“Th-then—” Sapnap’s face is growing red. “It… it doesn’t matter! _Fundy_ saw me there! He’s proof that I’m innocent!”

“But… only _after_ the lights turned back on,” Fundy frowns.

“And while lights were off, Sapnap had plenty of time to vent back to the lab,” Dream adds.

“And there’s no _reason_ for him to be in the lab,” George realizes, “Because Dream and I saw him there, before the last meeting. He should’ve completed everything in there already.”

Sapnap swerves his head at each accusation, his expression growing more and more hopeless as the reality of what’s going on sinks in for him. “N-no, _guys_ it’s _not me_ , I’m being _set up_ , I _swear_ —

“If Sapnap used the vents,” Bad suddenly inserts, “couldn’t he have used the same strategy to kill Tubbo?”

Sapnap shrinks in on himself. “No, _guys_ , I… _please_ , I would _never_ —”

“On the count of three, point to who you want to eject,” Dream announces. “One.”

“It’s not fucking _me_ , I literally _couldn’t_ have done it—”

“Two.”

“Guys, you’re making a _huge_ mistake—”

“Three.”

Sapnap doesn’t vote. But it’s fine, because all hands on deck had pointed in Sapnap’s direction.

Sapnap’s fists clench, his face boiling in anger. “ _Fine_ ,” he seethes, eyes glinting with hatred, “If you guys are so goddamn _eager_ to _die_ , then be my _fucking_ guest.”

. 。 ඞ 。 . • . Sapnap was ejected. . . 。 . 

。 ﾟ . . , . . .

“MIRA’s been made aware of the situation,” Bad nods, his serious face betraying a flicker of hope. “They’ve told us we’re free to go.”

“For real?” Fundy smiles, his ears perking up.

“Yep,” Bad beckons to the dropship. “Gas is filled and all preparations are ready. Let’s get _out_ of here.”

“ _Hell_ yes!” Tommy celebrates, wasting no time at all to dash onto the shuttle.

“ _Finally_ ,” Dream huffs, sparing George a happy glance. “I _told_ you George, everything’s going to be fine. And see, I was right!”

But George doesn’t entirely agree, unable to erase the awful twisting feeling in his gut. Being aware now, of the fact that Techno was innocent, made him terribly anxious, for two reasons. One, that they had sacrificed one of their own friends for something he didn’t even do. And two… that there could still be one impostor left.

But George pushes away his anxieties, and nods at Dream’s statement. As they board the dropship, he convinces himself that things can’t get any worse, not when they were _this_ close to being safe, back at home. George doesn’t want to worry the others with baseless concerns, even if it’s giving him a _really_ bad feeling.

He can only hope that his gut feeling is wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH more people dying!! Who's the second impostor?? 👀  
> (I personally think it's p obvious, but I AM also the writer, so there's gonna be bias— fill me in on your thoughts, guys)


	3. The Skeld

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It comes down to the final vote.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hAPPY HALLOWEEN FELLAS  
> I hope you enjoy the final chapter :)

“Alright everybody,” Bad had announced in the cafeteria, as straight-forward as ever, “In order to get moving, we’ll have to secure the safety of our trip first. Let’s make sure _everything_ is ready to go.”

Dream nods in understanding. “I can clean the O2 filter.”

“I’ll prime the shields,” Fundy offers next, “And afterwards, I can clear away the asteroids in the ship’s path too.”

Not wanting to be left out, Tommy quickly raises his hand. “You can leave refueling the engines to me,” he says proudly.

Bad nods thankfully. “I can come help you out with that. George, can you chart the course for the ship?”

George nods, and Dream puts a hand on his shoulder. Tommy notices that it lingers there a little longer than usual. “We can go together, O2 is right next-door to navigation.”

Tommy snorts in laughter, recalling how close the two had stood next to each other when he had exited office. “What, just you two alone?” He teases, “Are you planning on making out or somethin—”

“ _Okay_ ,” George quickly interrupts, his cheeks turning a shade pinker, much to Tommy’s satisfaction, “let’s just hurry up and go do our tasks.”

Dream snickers next to him. “ _George…_ ”

Nonetheless, the group does as George asks and they disperse to their respective locations. Bad follows Tommy to storage, and they each grab a canister of gas.

“Can’t believe we’ll finally get out of this mess soon,” Tommy had attempted to start conversation. He knows Bad’s a good fellow — despite the loss of his friend, he had still kept a level-headed attitude and tried his best to keep the group together. “Honestly, I didn’t figure we’d get ourselves into a situation like this.”

“Yeah,” Bad agrees, “It’s, uh, really been something.”

“I reckon we’ll be safe now though, ‘s long as Fundy does his darn job and we don’t crash into some unknown obstacle.”

“Hah, yep.”

Tommy notices Bad’s short responses, and he feels bad. He knows they’re in a shitty situation. He knows they’ve all lost close friends, to fucking impostors that for _no explainable reason_ , had been hell-bent on _killing them all_. Tommy, for one, misses Wilbur terribly. And Tubbo — Tommy wishes he could see his face again. Even Techno, who he’d helped to vote out… Tommy doesn’t want to even think about it, about the prickling guilt lingering inside him.

“Thanks for stickin’ out with us,” Tommy manages. “You’ve been a real team player, Bad.”

Bad looks momentarily surprised, but he gives a small, thankful smile. “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

They finish off their little bonding time when they’ve reached the lower engine. Bad offers to refill there and align the engine output while he’s at it, so Tommy breaks off from Bad there, trotting up to the upper engine with his gas canister in hand. With some effort, he manages to successfully do his half of the duties alone. 

Tommy considers it a job well-done, especially since he hadn’t wasted a single drop. “Pretty clean execution, if I do say so myself,” he huffs. It’s just too quiet around him — he feels like he needs to talk, to tone out the humming of the engine working. Being alone is giving him an eerie sense of foreboding, though it was probably just him being too sus from all the impostor-business they had to deal with.

Granted he’s already at the back-end of the ship, Tommy decides to finish up the rest of the preparations required in the vicinity as well. He heads back down the hall and turns right into Reactor, heading to the number sequence to unlock the manifolds for the ship. 

“Just bein’ a good old crewmate,” he talks to himself again. He casts a couple glances behind his shoulder every now and then, just to be sure he’s not being snuck up on. Ten finger presses later (why the _fuck_ where there so many damn buttons anyway?), and he’s finished the task. 

“Wonder if Bad’s still hanging around,” Tommy ponders as he exits the reactor room, head swerving to detect movement. But before he can start to head down the hallway, the lights suddenly dim, shutting down right above him. Tommy jumps a bit in surprise, letting out an undignified squeak. (Thank goodness no one was here to hear that.)

(But wait… what if no one being here meant no one would witness if he got killed??)

Tommy swallows nervously, trying to remind himself that it’s impossible. They voted the impostor out, and he was probably just unreasonably nervous because of what happened the _last_ time lights went out. Yeah, that was probably it. Nothing to get into a fuss about.

But still, that didn’t mean Tommy was _ecstatic_ on the thought of going to fix lights. He sure as hell doesn’t want to go do _that_. Someone _else_ would go fix it for them… probably.

 _Why were MIRA’s light systems so freaking busted, that they’d fail on them twice in a day?_ Tommy wonders irritably. Remembering that the security room is right ahead of him, Tommy quickly walks ahead, feeling his way against the wall. “I’m just gonna hide right here—”

He pauses, relief filling him when he sees that the security camera screens are still on, casting a slight glow into the room to help him see better. But that relief quickly transforms into horror, as he sees what’s _on_ the cameras.

“N- _no_ ,” Tommy gasps, scrambling towards the wide-screen monitors. He thought it was over already. He thought they voted out the impostor, that this wouldn’t happen again, but… “You’ve got to be _kidding_ me.”

On the camera, right outside of Navigation, is Fundy standing over a bloody body in a black suit.

. 。 • ( ( ( 📣 ) ) ) ﾟ 。 .

. . ﾟ . 。 。 .

“There’s a body,” Fundy starts hurriedly, “right outside of Nav—”

“SELF-REPORT!” Tommy screeches, slamming his hands down on the cafeteria table. “I SAW him do it, he was standing right _over_ the body, it’s _HIM_ —”

“WHAT,” Fundy yelps, eyes widening, “I didn’t _kill_ him, I just… walked _in_ on it—”

“Don’t even _try_ to _gaslight_ me!” Tommy retorts, throwing up his arms. “No _lying_ yourself out of _this_ , you _bastard_. I was on _cams_ and saw _exactly_ what happened, and to try to convince me otherwise when I literally _caught you_ in the act is just the _dumbest_ —”

“It was just _bad timing_ ,” Fundy insists, “I—”

“Oh SURE, it was bad timing… for YOU.”

“Guys!” George interrupts, looking baffled. “What’s _going on?!_ ”

“Fundy _killed_ Bad right on cams,” Tommy answers, and the truth of that sends a jolt through him. _Bad_ , who he had just been talking to a few minutes prior, who had tried so _hard_ to keep them all safe and together, was now _dead._

Bad didn’t deserve that. Out of everyone, Bad had deserved to live the most.

“You _saw_ him kill on cams?” Dream prompts seriously.

Tommy nods vigorously. “He fucking _stabbed him_ —”

“I DID NOT STAB HIM.”

“Oh, really? Then how do you explain the _five gaping holes in his body,_ _HUH_ _FUNDY?!_ ”

“There’s no way, it’s literally im _possible_ , you did not _see_ me stabbing him—” Fundy growls, his ears pressing down against his head.

“Oh, because you thought the _lights_ would obscure my vision didn’t ya—?!”

“NO, because I LITERALLY didn’t KILL HIM—”

“Then who _did_ , huh?!” Tommy yells back, “Point some fingers, why don’t ya? But you won’t be able to, because you _know_ that _you’re_ the killer—”

“Oh, because pointing fingers did _you_ so much good for Techno—”

“FUNDY,” Tommy interrupts, narrowing his eyes when he feels his heart twist. “DO. NOT.”

“Well, I’m just trying to save my _innocence_ here!” Fundy retorts. “How can any of us trust _your_ judgement when that very judgement _costed_ us an _innocent person?_ You’re obviously just _repeating the same mistake_ —”

“Shut _UP_ ,” Tommy slams the table with his fists, “you piece of murdering SHIT.”

“You know what?” Fundy growls back, “You’re starting to make me think it’s _you_. I bet _you’re_ the killer! You’re probably not even _in_ the security room!”

Tommy gasps. “How _dare_ you—”

“I bet you _just_ killed Bad in the dark, and you ran away to Shields right after I finished asteroids—”

“WHAT THE FUCK—”

“And I bet you killed Tubbo _too_ , and pinned it on Techno, because that was all part of your ‘ _master plan’_ —”

“You FUCKING ASS,” Tommy screeches.

“ _Guys_ ,” George had whispered, his face looking pale, “w-we shouldn’t—”

“George, do NOT do this to me right now,” Tommy cuts in. “I would _never_ kill Bad. He’s… he’s my _friend_ , you hear me? Do _not_ let Fundy get away with this, PLEASE.”

“ _You’re_ one to talk,” Fundy snaps, “Being an impostor has made lying _that_ easy for you, huh? George, don’t _listen_ to him, he’s _obviously_ trying to fib his way out—”

“Honestly,” Dream cuts in, “I think Tommy’s right. Fundy’s the guilty one here.”

Fundy’s tail droops in disbelief as Tommy sighs in relief. “ _Yes_ , DREAM!”

“Hear me out though,” Dream explains, “I have my reasoning for this. Tommy, you and Bad both agreed to go fuel the engines, correct? That would mean at least one of you would have to visit the Upper Engine. Now, _before_ you say anything—” Dream interrupts Tommy as he’s about to open his mouth, “I’m going to make some inferences. Bad did the gas in the Bottom Engine, right?”

Tommy blinks. “How did you—?”

“There wasn’t enough time for him to get to where he is now, if he had gone to Upper Engine,” Dream explains. “And because he didn’t go to Upper Engine, I’m assuming _you_ did that one, right Tommy?”

“Yes,” Tommy nods, not sure where Dream’s going with this, “exactly.”

“If we consider those locations,” Dream continues, “and the distance put between them, then that means it would’ve been impossible for Tommy to catch up to Bad and kill him outside navigation, in the given timeframe.”

“What if,” George pops in, “he _didn’t_ go to Upper Engine…?”

“That would’ve been too suspicious,” Dream answers. “If Tommy just started to follow Bad to navigation, without even finishing the second part of the task he _himself_ offered to do, Bad would’ve confronted him about it.”

Fundy’s shivering, a terrified look creeping into his eyes. “Guys, what if it was a _venter_ , the body is literally right _across_ from one—”

“Not possible,” Dream interrupts. “George and I are both in Navigation, and the vents there don’t connect to the one in the hall.”

Fundy frantically shakes his head. “I _swear_ , Tommy’s _pinning_ the blame on _me_ —”

“Given the timeframe, Tommy would’ve only had time to run to storage,” Dream denies. “There aren’t any vents in storage that lead to that hallway either.”

“Fundy,” George whispers weakly, “is it you…?”

“ _No_ ,” Fundy replies. 

“He’s literally _trembling_ ,” Tommy notices. “If _that’s_ not the behavior of someone who’s been found out, I don’t know _what_ is. _I_ say we vote the bastard out _now_.”

“Seconded,” Dream agrees.

“Fundy,” George starts, “Do you—?”

“It’s _Tommy_ guys,” Fundy looks on the verge of tears, “I-I’m _not_ the killer, I _couldn’t_ have done it, y-you guys are my _friends_ …”

Tommy raises his arm. “Voting in three…”

“You’re voting Tommy?”

“Two…”

“You _have_ to believe me…”

“One.”

With a satisfied swing, Tommy brought his arm down and pointed in Fundy’s direction. Dream has voted with him. Fundy had, to no surprise, voted Tommy. But… Tommy does a double-take. There was a twist before him, one he hadn’t expected. Dream looks just as surprised, his jaw having dropped open.

“... _George?_ ”

George’s trembling arm had pointed in Tommy’s direction. “What?”

Tommy stares, and then he breaks out into laughter, the _stupidity_ of the situation finally sinking in. Fundy _got away with murder_. “George,” his laughter dies down, “Don’t tell me you actually _believe_ that _fucker?!_ ”

“I—”

“You _actually think—_ ” Tommy growls, gesturing to himself, “That I’d _kill BAD?!_ ”

“N- _no_ ,” George replies, “I… I don’t.”

Dream frowns in confusion. “But you—”

“I’m _tying_ the vote,” George finishes, his voice solemn. “I… _No one_ is getting ejected.”

“ _But_ ,” Tommy blinks, not understanding, “We’re letting an _impostor_ get _away_ with _murder—_ ”

“But I don’t _know_ who it is,” George interrupts loudly, “And I don’t _want_ to make a _repeat_ of what happened with Technoblade. Not again.”

Tommy sinks to the ground, feels the sharp _haunting_ reality of their situation slinking back into his mind. “We’re dead,” he chuckles, his hollow laughter filling the cafeteria, “We’re all gonna _die._ ”

. 。 • ﾟ 。 .

. . ﾟ . 。 。 .

“I’m going to go fix the lights,” George announces, and before anyone can stop him, he’s left the cafeteria.

The cafeteria’s lights had been working (miraculously), but the instant George enters the hallway, he’s doused in darkness. Even still, he only walks faster, hoping no one will follow him. He can’t _trust_ anybody. Even Dream, who had told him everything would be alright, that all of them were safe… it had all been a _lie._

The voting had happened in slow motion to him, and George knew, just _knew_ that they couldn’t vote there, not with the incomplete information they had. So he had voted Tommy. Was that the right thing to do? George still wasn’t completely sure. But what was done was done. He was going to have to face problems one by one, and fixing lights was going to be first.

As George feels his way across storage (every so often bumping into a gas cylinder against the wall), he recalls what had happened as the lights went out. He and Dream had been sharing a somewhat ( _ahem_ ) intimate conversation previous to the event, so the loss of sight had been a surprise scare. George had immediately started to freak out, remembering how Sapnap had erupted from the vent in their last incident, and blindly tried to reach for Dream at the cockpit. When he reached the chair and was only met with emptiness in the seat, Dream had suddenly appeared behind him, placing a hand on George’s shoulder.

It was only Dream telling George to stay put to avoid hurting himself. But it had honestly brought chills down George’s back, how _suddenly_ Dream had popped up behind him, like a _ghost_. And then Fundy had yelled out loud, right outside of the room, and it all went downhill from there—

George’s thought process cuts short, when he finds himself at the doorway of electrical. He hurries towards the panel, carefully avoiding the wires on the floor, and efficiently flicks the appropriate switches on. It quickly hums back to life, and slowly but surely, the lights return above George’s head. He lets out a sigh of relief, glad that he can finally see his hands.

But his relief quickly disappears, when the bright lights are suddenly replaced by flashing red ones, warning signals blaring through speakers: _REACTOR MELTDOWN. WARNING, REACTOR MELTDOWN._

 _What the fuck_ , George thinks to himself, and in a flight of panic, he’s then running out of electrical. His feet feel like anvils, with how slowly he’s moving, rushing through the curved hallway, past the lower engine, turning and screeching to a stop in Reactor. The red lights are still flashing, the speakers still tearing through George’s eardrums.

George dashes to the left wall, pressing his hand to the meltdown-stabilizer. It lights up blue in recognition, but the emergency speakers blare on, showing no hint of stopping. George glances furtively behind him, his heart dropping when he realizes there’s a _second_ handprint needed to stop the meltdown.

The seconds slowly tick down. _Where_ is _everyone?!_ George feels himself panicking, when all of a sudden, someone dashes into the room.

“ _George!_ ” Dream shouts, “ _There_ you are—”

“Fix the _reactor_ Dream!” George interrupts, his heart hammering, “Or the meltdown—!”

Dream immediately understands, and rushes to the other wall. The moment his hand touches the sensor, the red lights disappear, and the emergency speakers stop. George lets out a huge sigh of relief. He had seriously thought they were _goners_ there… 

“George, why do you _walk_ so _fast?_ ”

“I just wanted to quickly fix the lights,” George lies.

“ _George_ ,” Dream repeats, and he puts both of his hands on George’s shoulders. George blinks at the contact, his breath catching in his throat as Dream towers over him. “That was… that was an _incredibly_ _STUPID_ and _dangerous_ thing for you to do.”

“Wh-wha…?”

“Even if we’re not _sure_ who the impostor is,” Dream continues, “he’s still _out_ there George. You can’t just _run off by yourself_ whenever you want! What if you—” Dream stops, his hands gripping George’s shoulders tighter, and he whispers, “what if you _died,_ George?”

“I—” George hesitates, his eyes wavering. “I, I dunno…”

All of a sudden, George is wrapped into a hug, Dream’s strong arms encircling him. “George, _please_ , you _have_ to be more careful. I… I can’t lose my best friend too.”

“I-I’m sorry,” George manages, the scent of Dream’s hoodie calming him down, “I… I’ll _try_ , Dream, really. You won’t lose me. I’m… I’m here, aren’t I?”

Dream finally releases him, much to George’s disappointment. “Yeah,” he gives a small smile, “you are.”

“But where’s everybody else?” George asks. “Were you the only one that followed me?”

Dream nods. “Speaking of that… now that I’ve found you, we _have_ to call an emergency meeting and get everyone to group together. The killer won’t act if there’s multiple witnesses around.”

George nods, understanding the reasoning. “Let’s… let’s hurry.”

Dream takes George’s hand in his and, blushing a furious pink, George follows Dream step for step as they rush back to the cafeteria.

. 。 • ( ( ( 📣 ) ) ) ﾟ 。 .

. . ﾟ . 。 。 .

“Alright, so I called this meeting because—” Dream pauses suddenly, confusion flickering across his features. “Wait. Where’s…”

George blinks, counting the people around the table. There’s George himself, standing next to Dream, and Fundy heavily panting on the opposite side, most likely from running. George feels chills crawl down his spine.

There’s only three of them present.

“Y-you called the meeting just before I could report it—” Fundy chokes out, “In Cams, I saw… _Tommy_ …”

Dream pauses. “You… you _killed_ him.”

Fundy’s eyes widen. “What? _No!_ I’m telling you, I literally _just_ saw it—”

“Where _were_ you when the reactor was going off?” Dream accuses, “It seems like only someone who doesn’t _care_ about the crewmates’ well-being wouldn’t show—”

“I was _steering_ the fucking _ship_ in Nav—”

“And in the previous round,” Dream cuts in, shaking his head, “It was between you or Tommy. Now Tommy is _dead_ , Fundy.”

“I—” A panicky look enters Fundy’s eyes as they flicker between George and Dream, “W-well, _I_ thought it was _Tommy too_ , but…”

“ _See_ , George?” Dream prompts, “Because we stuck together, the killer couldn’t pick us off. But Fundy saw that Tommy was alone and, because he had _seen_ Fundy’s kill _on_ -camera, he decided to silence him…”

“But—” Fundy looks genuinely confused, “I… I don’t _get_ it, if it _wasn’t_ Tommy, then who…?”

Dream crosses his arms. “It’s _you_ , Fundy.”

“ _No_ , _Dream_.” Fundy puts his hands up in a defensive manner, “ _Please_ , _think_ about it, _I_ —” he pauses suddenly, narrowing his eyes. “Wait.”

“Come on George,” Dream sighs, “It’s over for him. I told you it was him since last round, didn’t I? Let’s just vote him out.”

George can feel his palms sweating. It’s so clear — all the evidence pointed to Fundy. All the murders were done right next to him, and for him to have been the first to stumble on two bodies in a row, wasn’t that too much of a coincidence? Could George really condemn him for that?

“But _wait_ ,” the fox interrupts, pointing an accusatory finger, “What if it’s… _you?_ ”

Dream rotates his head, the eyes of his mask doing an eye-roll. “Oh, changing accusations now for whenever it’s convenient for you?”

“Now that I think about it…” Fundy continues, “You and George were _both_ in navigation when Bad died. When the lights went out, couldn’t you have just… popped out and done a quick kill?”

Dream, to George’s surprise, looks mildly irritated at Fundy’s accusation. “And what, managed to stab him five times in a row without making any noise? _Sooo_ realistic of you, Fundy.”

“And if you both did reactor,” Fundy pauses, “one of you two must’ve split off and killed Bad while the other wasn’t looking—”

Dream sighs in exasperation. “We were together the _whole time_.”

“Well it wasn’t _me_ ,” the fox continues to insist, “It’s _not_ me, I _swear_ I didn’t do a _thing_ —”

“For Wilbur’s death,” George suddenly interrupts. “Weren’t you the last one seen with him?”

Fundy visibly pales at the reminder. “Well, _y-yes_ , but…”

“That seals the deal, doesn’t it?” Dream huffs.

“ _George,_ ” Fundy begs, “ _please,_ I— I think you’re innocent, so you _have_ to believe me, Dream is… he’s _marinating_ you—”

“I’m _protecting_ him,” Dream corrects, an angry look crossing his features. “And he’s alive, isn’t he? George,” Dream turns to him suddenly, a fierce look on his face, “I’m _protecting_ you, and if we want to be safe, if we want to get _home…_ you _have_ to vote Fundy here.”

“No, you _have_ to vote Dream—”

“George, _make the right decision._ ”

George lets out a shaky breath, feeling his thoughts whirl within his brain, a jumbled mess of thoughts. George is scared. He doesn’t want to vote, doesn’t want to point fingers, nor eject another friend.

But Dream said it himself. He has to make the right decision. “Okay,” George breathes, having made his final choice. “Voting on the count of three.”

Fundy visibly deflates, and a triumphant look crosses Dream’s features. 

“George, wait—”

The image of Dream standing at the doorway to communications, his torso resting against the wall, flashes in George’s mind, his freckled grin ingrained into his mind like a photo. “One...”

“ _George_ ,” Fundy wildly waves his arms, “ _Please_ , it isn’t—”

The sight of Dream leaning over him, looking intently into his eyes, tightly holding his hand like an anchor in the middle of a red sea. George shuts his eyes. “Two...”

“It’s over for you.”

Being tackled into an embrace, safe in the scent of Dream’s hoodie, certain they would make it out alive, certain that they’d be free of this madness, finally free of these murders… 

“Three,” George finishes, opening his eyes and decisively raising his arm. The room is so silent, one could’ve heard a pin drop.

Fundy looks at George in amazement. “George, you...?” 

Dream gasps in shock. “G- _George! WHAT. What_ are you _DOING._ ”

“I’m voting for you,” George manages, swallowing the sour feeling in his throat, “I-I’m… voting you out.”

“...George,” Dream replies weakly, his voice trembling, “ _George, WHY,_ I… I thought you… even though I was _protecting_ you—”

“I _know_ you were,” George snaps. “I _know_ , because you kept Sapnap from killing me, Dream. I _know_.”

“ _George_ ,” his voice is anguished, “ _Please_ , I… I never _lied_ to you, I would never _hurt_ you, we were going to get home _safe together—_ ”

“I know that too,” George whispers, his heart wrenching, “But you told me, Dream, to make the right decision.”

“ _George—_ ” Dream chokes out, “But, I love…”

George interrupts him, pulling Dream towards him and pressing a chaste kiss to the smiley on Dream’s mask. “I love you too, Dream,” he gives a small, pitiful smile, “But your time’s up, impostor.”

. 。 • ﾟ 。 .

. . ﾟ . 。 。 .

“So,” Fundy speaks up after a moment, “I guess we won?”

“This can’t really be considered winning,” George sighs, thinking to all the friends they’ve lost, all the people they had sacrificed to get to where they were now. “Ten to two isn’t really…”

“Yeah…” the fox sighs, his ears drooping. A quiet silence blankets them as they stare out the window together, appreciating the sight of the stars. “Still, you made the right choice, George. You’ve gotta give yourself some credit for that.”

“No,” George denies. “I— I could’ve said something sooner. I _should’ve_ said something… _anything_ , but because I didn’t, people… people _died_ , Fundy. I’m…” George groans, “I’m the worst third impostor.”

“But you were a crewmate to the end,” Fundy reassures him. “Your last vote proves that, doesn’t it?”

George swallows. “I don’t know…”

“George,” Fundy chuckles, gently patting him on the back, “Believe me. You made the right decision.”

And George can feel it too. The ghosts of their dead friends don’t haunt him, rather, they fly around his head, offering an appreciative thanks to the outcome George had created. He can almost see it: Skeppy flying circles around Bad, Tubbo and Wilbur cracking jokes, Tommy and Techno working together to repair their broken trust.

And somewhere out there, Dream and Sapnap were resting in peace too.

“I know,” George nods. He thought he had chosen friendship over love, but weren’t they the same thing in the end, anyway? He wasn’t picking one over the other, really — rather, it was because he believed in both, that he made the decision he did. 

“Now that _that’s_ all over,” Fundy lets out a sigh, “You ready to get the ship moving, buddy?”

George nods, ready to put everything behind him. “Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo I LIED ABOUT THE DREAMNOTFOUND JUST BEING A SMIDGE, LMAO  
> I couldn't help myself, okay xD
> 
> If you're still confused about the events that went down (how the murders were committed, who was where, etc), you can head over to my [tumblr](https://peppdream.tumblr.com/post/633527629304184832/just-a-more-detailed-break-down-of-the-events-that) where I recorded info about the rounds in full detail.
> 
> [I'll just put this here since a lot of people are confused (sorry, it's my fault lol): the two impostors were Sapnap and Dream.]
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! I hope you have a sp00ky day ✨


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